Sinner Like Me by Avril Ashton
Eleven
By the time they made their way to their hotel and the room they’d booked, Kane was beat. Dead tired. Syren remained next to him, silent since they’d left Vince. Kane didn’t know what he should say. He hadn’t expected that shit Vince pulled. He was angry for fucking sure, but Vince needed some kind of help. And for that Kane felt sorry for him.
He didn’t want Vince to become a specter over their lives, the way Bailey had been in the beginnings of his relationship with Syren. Different situations, sure, but he didn’t want his husband to go back to doubting himself and them.
Inside their hotel suite, Kane kept with the silence as Syren walked away from him and sat in a chair, pulling off his shoes. Kane knelt in front of him and pushed Syren’s jacket off his shoulders. His husband only met his gaze once Kane began unbuttoning Syren’s shirt.
“Tired?” Kane asked.
Syren nodded. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Kane’s shoulder. Kane tap-tapped on his nape, drawing small circles.
“How about a bath? I can take care of it while you finish getting undressed.”
Syren pulled back a little. “Are you trying to take advantage of me, Marshal?”
“Are you saying you’re not a sure thing?” Kane lifted an eyebrow in mock surprise.
“Never.” Syren winked at him, fingers going to Kane’s shirt, reciprocating by unbuttoning him. “I’m never a sure thing. You’ll have to put in work.”
Kane grinned. God. It amazed him how just a few simple words from Syren could make him smile even in the tensest circumstances. The many facets of his husband never failed to surprise him. When Syren finished unbuttoning his shirt, Kane got to his feet.
“One bath coming up. Don’t fall asleep on me.” He dragged his fingers through Syren’s hair, nails scraping his scalp.
Syren shuddered, a small whimper falling from his lips. “You know fucking well no sleep will be had when you do that shit to me.”
“What shit?” Kane walked away chuckling as Syren cursed him. In the bathroom, he filled the Jacuzzi-type bathtub with warm water and poured in the sage- and lemongrass-scented bubble bath soap. He kicked off his shoes then went back for Syren. His husband remained seated. His pants were off, shirt hanging open, and his panties were on full display. He wore a stripy pink pair, trimmed with black lace.
Kane was a big fan.
“You’re gonna just stare at me or bathe me?” Syren’s eyes were closed, but a secretive smile played on his lips all the same.
“Thinking of just staring at you, actually.” Kane didn’t budge from where he stood feet away. “Get up. Walk to me.”
Syren’s left eye peeked open. “You’re ordering me, Marshal?” But he moved, got to his feet. The two halves of his shirt fell back, exposing him. His chest, his lithe, pale frame. He strutted over to Kane, all sexy and coy. When he stood in front of Kane, he said throatily, “You called?”
Kane ignored the familiar pull and tug in his gut, the stirrings in his groin, and pointed to the bathroom. “Go on, let me see your ass move in those drawers.”
Syren’s lashes dropped then lifted, his purple eyes flashing fire as he twirled a lock of white-blond hair around his finger. “Only ’cause you asked so nicely.” Then he was walking away, pale ass peeking out at Kane under the shirttail. In the bathroom doorway, Syren paused, back still to Kane, and shrugged off the shirt. The white material floated to the floor, exposing the most beautiful view, despite the scars on Syren’s back.
“Don’t move.” Kane reached him in four strides. With Syren’s naked back pressed to his front, Kane slid a palm up his nape and gripped a fistful of hair. Syren inhaled sharply. He made as if to turn, to look at Kane, but Kane held him still, kept him facing forward as he sank his teeth into Syren’s right shoulder.
“Oh fuck!” Syren’s body dipped as if his knees were giving out. Kane tightened his hold on his hair. Arms went around his waist, Syren hanging on to him awkwardly in that position.
“You’re sexy as fuck, you know that?” Kane nosed Syren’s nape, inhaling the warmth of his skin, grinning when Syren pushed back on him, shoving his ass onto Kane’s hard dick.
“Move,” Kane said hoarsely. “Move on me. Do what you want.”
Syren did, hips rotating slowly. It was excruciating as he rubbed and writhed on Kane. The movements caused the rough material of his jeans to scrape over his cock since he wore no underwear and he gritted his teeth. He kissed and nipped Syren’s nape, his shoulder, tugging on his ear as Syren undulated against him, ass cheeks parting to lodge Kane’s jean-covered dick in between.
“Fuck.” Kane growled. “Love watching you. The way you move.”
Syren whimpered. His head fell back onto Kane’s shoulder. “You love me.” He sounded fucking breathless.
“I love you.”
And Syren slid down his body, back still to Kane, in a smooth move. He dropped to his haunches between Kane’s legs then shifted forward, until he was on all fours. Panty-covered ass in the air. Kane tugged the flimsy piece of material up between Syren’s crack, exposing the globes of his ass, and smacked him on the right cheek. Immediately the skin reddened.
Syren inhaled. His body shook and his head tipped down toward the floor as his ass lifted higher. Kane hit him again, the next cheek, and he continued hitting him, sharp blows, alternating until both cheeks were red, until he saw his palm print there. Until Syren’s nails were scraping the tiled floor, soft cries falling from him, skin raised and flushed with goose bumps.
Until a sheen of sweat made his body shine.
Until Kane’s hands ached. Then he stopped and pulled on the panties, giving Syren a wedgie. The soft material lodged between Syren’s ass cheeks, and Kane pulled, making sure it scraped his hole.
“Marshal. Damn it.”
Kane moved away. His cock throbbed fiercely, but he could wait. He grinned when Syren glared up at him. Before he spoke, Kane scooped him up and dumped him in the bath. Water splashed onto the floor. Syren spluttered.
“Shit.” He narrowed his gaze at Kane. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to do.” He reached out for Kane, who stepped away.
“I didn’t know you were a fan of nice.” Kane stepped out of his jeans, not missing the way Syren licked his lips as his gaze lowered to Kane’s crotch. “I’m just gonna give you a bath.”
“And that’s it?” Syren screeched. His eyes promised murder.
Kane shrugged, faking nonchalance. “You look tired. You need rest.”
Syren flipped him off with a finger covered in bubbles. “Fuck you. I’m never tired. Never too tired.”
“So you say.” Kane knelt beside the tub and picked up a washrag. “Here, let me scrub your back.”
Syren jerked away. “If you touch me in any other capacity than to fuck me, I will set you on fire. With gasoline. And a match.” He had that determined look in his eyes.
Kane dropped the rag and held up both hands in surrender. “You’re just choosing violence right now, aren’t you?”
Syren snorted as he scooped the suds up to his chest. “I’m mellowed out. This is me, all mellow.” He nodded at his own words.
“Really?” Kane lifted an eyebrow as he dipped a hand into the water and slid his palm over Syren’s thigh. “Mellow, huh?” He tugged off the panties and tossed them to the side.
“Is Vince floating face-up in a pool of his own blood, a bullet between the eyes and his hands cut off at the elbows? Nope.” Syren shook his head. “Like I said, mellow.”
“That’s an oddly specific scenario for a man who claims to be mellow.” Kane slid a finger between Syren’s toes. His husband jerked, nostrils flaring.
“I have daydreamed about it a time or five.” Syren shrugged.
They went silent until Kane cleared his throat and found the words to say, “I’m sorry.”
Syren looked up at him. “For what?”
“Vince. For tonight. For not seeing that he needed help before now.”
“Oh, Marshal.” Syren dropped his head back on the edge of the tub, one knee lifting out of the water when he bent his leg. “I can’t blame him for loving you. You’re easy to love.” He sighed. “I wish he’d have stayed wherever he was for the past year and some. I wish I didn’t have to remember that time in our lives.”
Kane understood that. He wished the same. “It’s because of me that all this happened and I’m so sorry.” He touched Syren’s cheek with a wet finger. “I wish I could take it all back. Those wasted months we spent apart.”
Syren swallowed. Kane watched his Adam’s apple bob, but he didn’t speak.
“Babe.” When Syren still didn’t speak, Kane said, “I never want you to question us. I never want you to doubt my love. Because I love you so much.” He found Syren’s hand under the water and linked their fingers. “I’ve watched you this past week. I’ve watched you and I just—there’s so much to you. Always something new to discover. Your strength and your drive, your fierce protection of those who you love.”
Syren closed his eyes, but his fingers tightened around Kane’s. “I protect what’s mine. It’s as simple as that.” He paused, then said, “I never ruled out having to kill once I began on the path I chose, but in the past, I’ve always kept it simple. Money. That and blackmail always went down more smoothly than the thought of taking a life. But my family hadn’t been threatened before. My daughter hadn’t been kidnapped before. The same old same old didn’t apply.”
Kane got into the tub, sliding in behind Syren so his husband sat in his lap, his back against him. “I don’t care about that. I never did. All that shit went out the window the instant they took Càtia and Nina,” Kane said vehemently. “I loved watching you, in case you didn’t know. Loved that ruthless side of you. I love that nobody else gets to see all the different flavors of you. The businessman, the lover, the killer. The man who wears the hell out of some lace, who loves getting his hair pulled and his ass spanked, is the same man who wields power like nothing else. He’s the same man who rubbed elbows with the most notorious criminals, who battled and overcame fear and the worst kind of childhood.” Kane rubbed his nose against Syren’s damp nape, and some strands of Syren’s wet hair dripped water on his nose. “Vince got it so wrong,” he said softly. “I’m the lucky one. Winning your love”—his voice thickened with emotion—“getting you to love me after all the betrayals you’ve seen and experienced. After all the shit you’ve been through, you had it in you to love still. To love me. It’s a gift. I know that and it’s one I treasure.”
He’d never take it for granted. Never. He held Syren close despite their bodies being slippery with the soapy water.
“For the longest time I had only Càtia and that was enough,” Syren said. He rubbed his palm over the back of Kane’s hand. “Sure, I had Isa and Henri, but that was a more familial love as well. They were family. I didn’t think I deserved to be loved in any other way. I didn’t think I was missing anything either. I never had it, so I didn’t know what it really meant. Until I saw you.” He twisted slightly until their gazes met. “Then I saw you, Marshal, and I knew no one would love me but you. I wasn’t meant to be loved by anyone else. I let myself wonder then.” He smiled sadly. “It was the first time I let myself dream of more. Dream of you. If you didn’t love me, no one else would.” He shrugged. “It was the way I wanted it because I wanted no one else but you.”
Kane’s heart melted all over again. He touched Syren’s chin, held him steady, and kissed him. Kissed him deep, searching, their tongues twisting around each other in an all too familiar dance. He loved that dance. He tasted Syren, always a decadent sip, and buried his hands in his husband’s hair.
Syren pulled away slowly, allowing their lips to cling to each other. “Took a while for me to believe I could have it. That I could love and be loved, but the first seeds of hope were planted with our first kiss.” His breath warmed Kane’s face when he whispered, “It was an out-of-body experience, Marshal, tasting my future on your lips.”
“Always,” Kane whispered back. “I will always be your future.”
“I know.” Syren gave him a cocky grin. “I know that.”
“Good.” He picked back up the rag and squeezed water onto Syren’s chest.
“I never told you why I said no,” Syren said suddenly.
“Hm? No about what?”
“That request you made.” Syren’s voice was so low, Kane had to lean closer. “Making love to you.”
Kane froze. With everything going on he’d allowed that to slip out of focus. Now, he recalled Syren’s unusually harsh dismissal. “Are you set in your role?” he asked slowly. “Is that it? You prefer me to be in charge all the time?” He didn’t hate the idea, but he’d wanted, and still wanted, to feel Syren, to experience Syren making love to him. He also wanted to give Syren that gift, of having a part of Kane no one else had.
Syren pulled away from his arms and turned until they were facing each other. His eyes were sad, expression serious, as water dripped from his hair. “I don’t know for sure that I’m set in my role. I just—” He shook his head. “I’m scared.”
“What?” Kane grabbed his hand with a frown. “Why scared?”
“I don’t want to disappoint you. What if I suck?” His teeth appeared when he smirked. “In a really bad way, I mean.”
Kane shrugged. “I haven’t done it before from that end, so I wouldn’t know, but I doubt you would.”
“Why haven’t you done it before? You and Bailey were together for ages.”
“Bailey was a bottom, and I knew that before we even slept together that first time.” Kane sighed. “I didn’t need it or anything, because I already acknowledged it was off the table.”
Syren’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you think it’s off the table with us?”
“Dunno.” Kane stared at him. “Is it off the table?”
Syren drew closer and touched his cheek with a hand covered in suds. “Marshal.” He closed his eyes briefly then opened them. “The second person who bought me was a woman.”
Kane’s heart lurched. He didn’t like the way Syren spoke those words, so grave, as if there were more where they came from. He held himself still, tried to keep any expression off his face as he waited for Syren to go on.
“She bought me for her husband. He wanted to be topped, by someone like me. And she wanted to watch.” Syren looked away then back at Kane. His lips twisted. “You know, it doesn’t fuck with my head as much as it used to, the memories. It’s like watching mental photos of someone else’s life.” He touched his chest. “It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. It’s an ache, but a dull one.”
“I’m glad.” Kane hauled him close and kissed his nose, water sloshing over the sides of the tub with the movement. “I’m so glad.”
“Anyway, back to the reason for me denying you.” Syren breathed in deeply. “They bought me to top the husband. I mean, I was a fucking kid, and no way could I really do anything substantial, but they didn’t seem to care. I was…not good. I couldn’t touch him without shaking, puking, screaming.” He chuckled without humor. “Got many beatings, went lots of days without food before they finally sold me off. It was six months there, but I promised myself I wouldn’t ever do that. I couldn’t see the fucking appeal.”
Kane had been caressing Syren’s shoulder as he spoke and when his husband paused, he asked, “What happened to them, the couple?”
Syren’s eyes lit up. “By the time I got around to dealing with them, the husband had died of lung cancer. A painful, lingering death I was told. The wife, it was fun to see the fear in her eyes when I showed up at the nursing home she’d been hauled off to when her husband died. I gave her a choice and she chose door number two, jumping off the roof of the nursing home.” He shrugged. “It was a very long way down.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before now?”
“I didn’t think it would be an issue. You didn’t strike me as the type to want to give up control like that, and I damn sure wasn’t about to suggest it.”
Kane cupped Syren’s chin, making sure their gazes held when he said, “I want you. I want to feel you taking me. I want us to experience it together. I want you to know how much I love you.”
“I know how much you love me.” Syren shook his head. “I don’t need your ass to know that.”
“But I need it. I want it. To give you something I’ve never given anybody else.” His body grew hard as he spoke and he rubbed against Syren’s leg under the water. “I want you to know what it feels like, losing yourself inside the man you love, watching him lose his mind because of you. Watching him fall apart under your touch. I want your cum inside me, flooding me. Marking me. I want your fucking marks on me.”
Syren stared at him, pupils dilated, parted lips all pink and moist.
Kane bent, rubbing his stubble against Syren’s smooth cheek. “You’ll do it like you do everything else, beautifully. But I want you to keep your panties on as you take me however you want. Fast or slow. Hard or soft. I want it.” Syren’s pulse raced under his touch and Kane reveled at the catch in his husband’s breathing. “On the bed or the floor, wherever. Fuck me like you own it. Because you do.”
